Chapter Four

Bryn

six months later

My feet ached as I slipped them into the red eight-inch platform heels that were part of my uniform. The lacy black silk panties that covered a small portion of my bottom along with the gold belly chain, which had a fake red ruby dangling from just below my belly button, were the other parts of my uniform. I had worked five days straight this week because two of the other servers had been let go last weekend after getting into a fight over a customer.

When Marley had asked if I could work extra shifts, I had agreed, not thinking about how exhausted I was going to be. We didn’t need the money even though Tory was without a job again. I never told my sister the exact amount I made and had been putting money in a savings account I’d opened at a local bank. I didn’t want to do this job forever, but for now, I saw no other way.

Two months ago, we had moved from our studio apartment to a three-bedroom apartment on the better side of town. I had considered moving us closer to my work. The Shores hadn’t exactly given us a warm welcome, thanks to Tory. My reason for coming here was no longer a staying factor. I had closure on my Rio March fascination.

However, Tory had just gotten another job at the time, and she hadn’t wanted to leave town. She told me I was being selfish. In the end, we’d stayed on in The Shores.

Cullen had his own bedroom now, and he hadn’t gone without a healthy meal in months. I was able to take him to the bookstore and let him pick out books every week. His fifth birthday would be here at the end of the summer, and for the first time in his life, he would have a real party. Not just a cupcake with a candle stuck in it with whatever used toy I had found at the thrift store, wrapped in newspaper.

“Here, use this,” Trix said, putting a tub of makeup in my hand. “It’s concealer. It will cover the dark circles under your eyes.”

I looked into the mirror and realized she was right. I not only felt exhausted, but I looked it too. “Thanks,” I said to her.

“Sucks, having to work every night. Marley needs to let Saint help her hire. Hell, he did a fucking excellent job with you. She knows it too. We need more servers on the floor. I can’t keep up the double shifts to cover for them. I need to be on the damn stage. Makes more money, and if I am going to get into medical school, I need to dance,” Trix said as she fastened her belly chain around her waist.

A month after I’d started, Trix had been moved from serving on the floor to stage dancing. I knew those girls often went home with five thousand dollars a night. Trix was headed to med school; Danka was the sole provider for her daughter and her father, who was battling cancer; Lola was raising three nieces after her sister and brother-in-law died in a car accident. They were the three I had worked with the most. I didn’t know all the dancers’ stories, but I had learned most were up there because they had to be.

“You said you have a sister,” Trix said, and I looked back at her through the mirror as I applied the concealer.

“Yeah,” I replied.

“She look like you? Maybe she could come in and interview,” Trix suggested.

I laughed then and shook my head, then continued to cover the dark circles the best I could. “Tory is not someone I would recommend to Marley. She has no work ethic and has yet to keep a job longer than three weeks.”

Trix sighed. “That’s a fucking shame.”

She had no idea. It was why I was here.

“Here, let me do that,” Trix said and took the tube from me, then began to fix my face. “She older than you?” Trix asked me.

“Tory? Yes.”

Trix snorted. “Rarely hear of the younger sister being the responsible one. Hell, my baby sister calls me weekly for help to pay her bills. If it wasn’t for the three kids of hers, I would hang up. She’s just like our mama, I swear.”

I understood that all too well. “Tory has a son,” I said just as she stepped back and studied my face.

“There. It’s fixed,” she stated. “You got a sorry-ass mama too?” Trix asked, walking over to slip on her platform heels that were white, covered in red lips.

“She was in prison for murder. They had a Covid outbreak shortly after the lockdown, and she didn’t survive it,” I explained.

“Murder? Shit. Damn, that’s tough,” she replied.

“Just had the Elvis table arrive. We need you both on it. Looks like spoiled trust-fund brats tonight, but they have daddy’s money,” Saint said as he walked into the dressing room.

Each table was named after a dead music icon. Elvis was The King, so the table with his name was the most exclusive.

“Gotta have something if they reserved the Elvis table,” Trix said, flashing a smile.

Saint was looking at me though, and I wondered if he wanted me to say something. I never understood him. His mood swings came and went. Getting to know him was impossible. Although Trix wasn’t bothered by his moodiness. She was always flirty with him.

“This is your fifth night in a row, isn’t it?” he asked me.

I nodded.

“You need a night off,” he stated.

“I’m fine until Marley finds new servers,” I assured him.

“Tomorrow night, you take off,” he said, then turned and walked out of the room.

“Yeah, don’t worry about me,” Trix called out and rolled her eyes. “Damn, must be nice, having that face of yours and those tits. Come on, Angel. Let’s go.”

Angel was my name here. My first night at work, Saint had given it to me, as he had done with the other girls here. It was his job—or at least what everyone expected of him. When he named me Angel, I was relieved. It didn’t sound like a stripper name. Trix, however, had teased me about it relentlessly in the beginning.

“You just do better with makeup than I do,” I told her, following her out. “I must have looked rough.”

Trix laughed then and shook her head. “Oh, Angel, if life were as simple as you see it. Damn, girl, you should be more jaded with your history.”

I didn’t say anymore as we walked out onto the floor. It was time to become Angel. I had learned to leave Bryn back in the dressing room. My acting began now. Placing a smile on my face, I sauntered out into the club with my bare chest on display and my lips painted as red as the heels I wore.

Saint’s gaze locked with mine as he stood behind the bar, pouring a drink. I made sure that tonight, I would work extra hard at making the customers happy. I would smile more, wink, and be sure to stand at the tables longer than necessary. I wasn’t going to give Saint any reason to say I couldn’t do my job.

“Young and hot,” Trix whispered as we drew closer to the Elvis table.

I turned my attention to the table that was reserved by those who wanted a front row seat to the dancing onstage as well as two different servers to wait on them.

The smile I was determined to keep on my face tonight, however, was forgotten when a pair of familiar eyes met mine. Breathing also became difficult as my throat tightened from panic. The room seemed to close in around me, and suddenly, there was no one else here, no loud music, no voices. All I could see was the disgust in Rio March’s eyes.